Geheugen verlies
by sslgg2000
Summary: Mulder gets amnesia.
1. Chapter 1

**Beautiful by RocketMan  
Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013 Productions, and Fox. I apologize for borrowing them, and no infringement is intended.**

Dana Scully came into her apartment with the feeling that something was wrong. She turned on the light and pulled her gun from its holster, straining her ears for the sounds that would prove to her there was something wrong. Her body tensed automatically and she heard nothing but the steady hum of the refrigerator.

Feeling like Mulder, she stepped carefully into the kitchen, eyes searching for any sign that a man was in the house, because that was what her instinct was telling her. A man was in the house.

She heard it then, as she approached the bedroom, the distinct sound of someone breathing. She cocked her head to listen better and realized that the man was sleeping. It was a steady in and out, a soft and gentle rhythm.

Carefully, she opened the door to her bedroom, wincing when it creaked. She saw black, thick shoes, then jeans, on the floor by her phone.

Confusion caught hold of her and she opened the door, more curious than fearful. It was Mulder, passed out on the floor, looking like he had been through hell and back several times. And she knew how much he hated fire. "Mulder?" He moaned and stayed asleep, and she crept beside him, holstering her gun. She touched his cheek and his eyelids fluttered. For a moment she thought he would wake, but hten his eyes shut again; she sighed. "Mulder? Come on, wake up." Scully let her fingers trail across his forehead; he had a slight fever, not too bad. Then she touched his lips, his breath came hot and fast. Maybe he was having a dream . . . but how did he get to her apartment and on the floor? "Mulder?" He yelled and jerked, managing to twist his body halfway around adn slam his head on the nightstand next to her bed. He groaned and turned sheepishly to see her. When his vison cleared, he studied her face, then glanced around the room in confusion. Annoyance feld from her to be replaced by concern, which he could see in her eyes. "What happened?" he asked. "You tell me, Mulder. I thought you were suppsoed to be gone already. I was just about to leave after I got off work, remember?" Scully frowned and helped him stand. He stood crazily, listing back and forth, and his eyes couldn't seem to focus. "Leave for where?" he said, still confused. About her, about him, about where he was. "For Ashtebula, Ohio, the next X-File." He turned to face her, almost knocking himself off balance. "What?" "Mulder? Do you remember anything?" He thought for a moment. "Should I know anything?" She felt panic clawing through her, but she squashed it. "Do you know where you are?" He shrugged. "Maybe my apartment? I don't see why else I'd be here." "No, Mulder. You're in my apartment." His face grew slack for a moment and he bit his lip. He let her sit him down, and then looked around, finally letting his eyes fall to her. "Could you tell me who you are?" he whispered. He wished he hadn't. For a split second, her face crumbled and he saw pain and sadness etched there. But then came the stern exterior, the polished expression. "I'm your partner, Dana Scully." His eyes shot up. "You mean like lover?" He saw a faint flicker of something, but it died. "No, in the FBI." His mouth hung open. Then he looked around again. Something was nagging about it all. Something missing. "Where's Samantha?" he said, feeling a sense of dread. Scully felt her heart sonstrict. How was she supposed to tell him that? "Mulder . . . Samantha was taken, a long time ago." She watched in horror as his face crumpled and his eyes turned into black pools of self hate and sorrow. She wanted so much to reach out to him, to hold him, but he didn't even know her. So make him know you. He needs comfort, give it to him like you normally would. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding his head as the silent tears fell. For the first time, she realized just how much of a raw festering wound his sister's abduction was for him. Would he ever stop blaming himself?


	2. Chapter 2

pre style="word-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;""What happened to her?" came his throaty whisper.  
"Oh, Mulder, don't make me tell you that. . . "  
He jerked form her like he'd been burned, and she had a hard time keeping her face from cracking.  
"Tell me, Dana Scully. Tell me why it hurts so much, why it makes me hate myself."  
"I don't know why, I don't know. I don't think you should hate yourself for it, but you do anyway."  
"Tell me," he hissed, his eyes different to her, more spiteful, less Mulder.  
So she told him, standing with her back turned from him, putting as much distance, emotionally, as she could. It didn't work. She felt her heart fragment and burn away, just as it had when Roche had claimed horrible things to him. When she had wanted to stand up and spit in his face for hurting Mulder so much.  
She felt the same now, but it could not be directed at any one thing,  
and so she looked away and let him cry over Samantha. It was the frist time she'd seen him cry about her. Usually he talked about it under the cloak of his wild, self-protecting alien theories, or with the almost breaking down of a man in constant contained torture.  
He was crying now.  
She couldn't just stand there.  
She went to him again, despite the fear that he, the only one she trusted, would push her away.  
She touched his shoulder and he turned his face toward her.  
"Thank you, thank you for telling me," he whispered, and it was hte old Mulder again. The one who could get anything when he looked at her like that.  
She carefully slipped her arm around him and held him close to her. He collapsed onto her body, heavy and firm, very man and very vulnerable.  
She wanted to kiss him.  
She tuned the thought out and let her fingers run through his long hanging bangs.  
"What is X-File?"  
She felt her heart slow and her bloos speed up, causing her body to shake a little.  
"It's all the files that the government either doesn't want solved, or thiks are too weird for regular agents. To us, it's the truth, the only thing that holds the answers, if we can get to them before they're gone."  
He breathed in and out, then sat up, eyeing her. "What was the question?"  
She was floored.  
What was the question?  
She had been with the X-Files, searching for answers, telling him she already knew the truth, just wanted answers, and she didn't even know the full extent of the question.  
"I guess I always trusted you to have the question. But there are many of them. What happened to your sister, can you get her back, why did they kill my sister, and your father, and just how much was he-"  
"Oky, I get the idea." He sat back in the couch and watched her for a moment. "Why do you stick with me?"  
because i love you because i need you because my life without you is worse than my life with everyone else who was taken from me  
"Because it's my search too."  
"Oh, a territorial kind of thing. Don't want to give up something that could be good."  
If he hadn't already been suffering from amnesia, she would have slapped him.  
"No." she said coldly.  
"Well, that's not good enough. Sounds to me like you've lost a lot, your sister for one. So why stick with it?"  
"Well that's the way it is, sorry if it isn't good enough."  
"That's not 'the way it is', Dana Scully. I can see it in your blue eyes, that's very much not the way it is. So how is it?"  
it is that i love you and i could never leave you and don't want to and never ever will they separate us because...  
"I don't know, ask mulder."  
"I am Mulder."  
"So answer it."  
Scully was getting uncomfortable. This was unexplored country and she didn't want anything coming out because he was conked half out of his mind.  
"I think," he saod slowly, "it's because you . . . well, no, something like that should be so simple, right? So easy."  
oh dear God he knows he knows  
"Not everything is so simple, so easy."  
She was shaking.  
"Maybe not in your world, our world."  
He was smiling perculiarly . . . Mulder the Cheshire Cat.  
"Definitely not easy in our world."  
"So make it easy." HIs eyes lifted and she could see fever approaching.  
She stood and pulled his legs down all the way, and hten pulled the throw over his shivering body.  
"Don't change the subject," he said.  
"I didn't say anything," she protested.  
"In your face you did. It changed subtly. One of those, I was in the mood to talk but now it's uncomfortable so I'm not anymore."  
"You're pretty annoying when your mind goes, Mulder." she sighed.  
"You're pretty beautiful when you're annoyed."  
She froze, then righted herself swiftly away from his intense eyes.  
"Can I not tell you that? Without you freezing up? It's nothing romantic, it's the truth. What happened to your seacrh for the truth?"  
He was teasing her. She could deal with that, she knew that.  
"As far as I remember, it never entailed questioning the details of my outward appearance." she said with a quirky almost smile.  
"Well, from now on, it will. I promise to tell you a truth at least once a month, just to remind you. But I really wasn't talking about your outward appearance. I was talking about your soul; it's beautiful."/pre 


	3. Chapter 3

pre style="word-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"" . . . I was talking about your soul; it's beautiful."  
"How do you know that? Your head's all messed up." she scoffed.  
"How eloquent." he said with a sarcastic wince. "I know that because you told me about Sam, and even though you didn't want to, even though you knew it would hurt, you told me the truth. And I'm sure you spared me most of the details, too." His eyes softened into something very un-Mulder-like. "And you're either a really good friend, or a lover."  
Her face showed nothing, no emotion whatsoever, and he wondered what nerve he had hit there. It was odd to be talking like this with a woman he did not know, but felt as if he owed her his life a hundred times over. He also felt like she was completely off-limits.  
He got a bad feeling.  
"You're not married, are you?"  
She smiled with his sudden look of fear. "No, but it would serve you right if I were."  
"Why, do I love you?"  
He's going to kill me with these questions. I can't pretend anymore.  
She turned angrily from him, but did not let him see her anger.  
"How should I know?"  
"Sorry," came his soft voice. "I thought maybe . . ."  
She stood silently and waited for him to finish, her heart not beating,  
her breath ragged.  
"I don't know. I kind of thought you loved me. And that I loved you."  
oh . . . . i'm going to die . . . did he really say that?  
She turned around and went to his side, squatting beside him and looking in his eyes, seeing Muder there in the depths. It was him talking, not the amnesia.  
"Yes, I love you. But you usually don't notice."  
Her mouth was dry, palms sweating. this so stupid, what am I doing?  
"Well, then, that makes more sense. I thought so."  
didn't he know how hard this was? did he appreciate how hard it was?  
"I love you too, I think."  
She would just die now, just die and -  
His lips were on hers, soft and gentle, and she stiffened for a second,  
then melted into him. He moved her closer so that her hips were pressed against the couch and her breasts into his chest. She could feel his heart slamming hard against his ribcage and she felt her own heart rhythm do the same. She felt him move again, and she was suddenly on top of him and hot, so very hot.  
"Did you not know that?" hew whispered suddenly, and she missed his mouth.  
"That you loved me? Maybe, but we never said anything or acted on it."  
"Are we not allowed to?"  
"I don't know, maybe."  
"Too bad then, huh?"  
She smiled and felt his lips come back to her. They tickled her neck and came hot and wet to her chin, then on her lips, melting her own heat.  
She felt so good, they felt so good, and -  
She felt him shudder and then his body tensed.  
She was off him immediately, and kneeling next to the couch. She touched his forehead and felt heat, more hot than his lips on hers, and she didn't even know that kind of heat was possible. Her own lips still burned.  
She let her hand caress his cheek, then whispered. "I'm going to get you some Tylenol. You don't have a concussion, and the amnesia should go away quickly." She frowned as he nodded listlessly.  
"Amnesia is so rare, I don't see how you could have gotten it."  
She went to the kitchen and opened the cabinet door for the Tylenol. The red capped bottle greeted her cheerfully and she shook out two of the white pills into her palm. She then ran water into a glass and brought both in to him.  
He was weak, she saw as he sat up, and he wasn't protesting like he usually did. Of course he had also kissed her, and he didn't normally do that either.  
"Mulder, sleep for now," she said, brushing the hair out of his eyes.  
He nodded but pulled on her arm. "Come here."  
She bent down and he tenderly placed his lips on her mouth, eyes closed,  
and she felt heat flow into her body, making her flushed everywhere.  
"Thank you Dana Scully. Remember you're beautiful. That's a truth." he whispered and then fell back into the couch, ready to let sleep claim him.  
She felt her ribs tighten around her heart and she turned from him, to make the tears go away.  
But she had to turn back and kiss his forehead.  
Just in case.  
Then she carefully tiptoed out.  
She began to pack automatically, before realizing that there was no way they could go to Ohio now, not without Mulder.  
So she laid on her bed and thought of his lips fastened hotly on her,  
arms circling her.  
And she fell asleep./pre 


	4. Chapter 4

pre style="word-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"Dana woke slowly, feeling something tickling her cheek, but not knowing,  
or having the strength to find out what it was. She remembered Mulder and dragged her eyes open.  
He was there, on the side of her bed, his shirt rubbing against her cheek, but his eyes elsewhere.  
She closed her eyes again, she was so tired, and she didn't want to face him and his open honesty, not yet.  
He placed a hand to her back and she realized that the heat was gone.  
No heat.  
Her heart constricted again, her stomach flipped; something was changed,  
something was different.  
"Scully?" came his soft voice.  
oh God, why are you doing this to me?  
he doesn't remember again, or rather he remembers, but not the love,  
oh God why are you torturing me like this?  
She opened her eyes slowly, and saw his face in front of her, amusement in his eyes.  
"Are you okay?"  
She sucked in a deep breath and raised up, then sat beside him, face frowning.  
"I'm fine. How's your head?"  
"What?" he said, before he had time to think. He winced then and said,  
"I have a huge headache, what happened?"  
Her heart sank back into the murky recesses of despair; she wanted to cry. All that with him before, and he didn't remember. All the hard words she had finally allowed herself to say . . . gone. Forgotten.  
"I found you in here, on the floor and out cold. I woke you up, put you on the couch and you fell right back into unconsciousness. I couldn't wake you." she lied. She couldn't tell him the truth, he'd want to know what she'd said, what had happened and she just couldn't do that again.  
It felt like she had lost him.  
He watched her carefully, and realized something more had happened, but he didn't know what. He trusted she would tell him when she was ready,  
so he let it go. Maybe something had happened that disagreed with her beliefs, and she was trying to assimilate it.  
Her eyes, he noticed, were bright blue and sleepy, with softness around the sides and something in them he didn't recognize. He felt a feeling rush into him, something he couldn't describe. But it made his hand go to her cheek and caress it with the back of his fingers, softly.  
He watched her eyes and saw with amazement something burn in them.  
He wondered what idiot had nicknamed her the Ice Queen. She was so soft and warm, almost hot, and he had to force his arm down with reluctance.  
His eyes slid down, away from hers, and she saw his jaw work under the skin, the muscles smooth and bunch with whatever was on his mind.  
"Scully, you . . . you look beautiful." he said, with a hesitant and puzzled look on his face. He couldn't figure out why it was so important that he tell her that.  
She let her eyes slide away and felt tears build in them slowly.  
He took her chin and rotated her head back to him.  
His eyes softened. "Don't cry. I'm sorry . . . I just had to tell you."  
She shook her head and smiled beyond the tears, making a rainbow appear in his heart. She was furious with herself for letting this man make her cry twice in one night.  
"Don't apologize. I'm just surprised a little, I guess. You . . . you mean that."  
"I don't lie to you, Scully."  
"I know," she said quietly.  
He had promised to tell her a truth. Even though he could not remember that promise, he was keeping it.  
But he loved her, she knew that.  
Or at least part of him, somewhere did.  
Or thought he did. Or-  
She sighed and watched Mulder head for the kitchen. She'd keep that to herself, in her heart, and allow the little thrill when he touched her,  
and the slight tightening of her chest when he loked at her.  
He turned back and saw her sitting on the bed, wrapped in her feelings.  
His eyes softened and turned very vulnerable for a moment. "Scully?"  
What new revelation would he dump on her heart?  
"Do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."  
She smiled.  
How could she say no to those eyes? The ones that had asked her to tell her the truth about his sister, the ones that had cried over her, the ones that had told her he loved her?  
She couldn't then; she couldn't now.  
"Yeah, come on, Mulder. I think I have some leftover Chinese in the fridge."  
His delighted little grin followed her out./pre 


End file.
